


Life Cycles

by borntomkehistory



Series: Angst, Angst, and more angst [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 21:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12154941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borntomkehistory/pseuds/borntomkehistory
Summary: They will be back next Thursday. They always were. Yuuri took one last look at the stone. He gave a sad smile before walking away. Walking away was always the hardest. He wishes he could stay there forever. But Viktor would have wanted him to walk away and live his life.





	Life Cycles

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for clicking on my story and for giving it a chance! Just a quick warning that this story is focused around the topic of death, and if this is a sensitive topic for you please click away. Death is hard to face, especially when It's a loved one. The reason why I decided to write this was because I wanted to focus on the aftermath, and how some days are easier than the other. So hopefully I was able to do that justice in this story. 
> 
> Enjoy!

...

 

_There were days when life decided to move on. Chores became as easy as picking a flower from the garden._

Those were the days that Yuuri cherished the most. He would wake up, stretching his tense limbs and then go to Makkachin, giving the dog a loving belly rub. These days always happened on Sundays. He would put on his glasses, and then go to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Two cups of coffee. One with no sugar, one with sugar. Light on the cream for both.

The bacon was on the stove sizzling along with the eggs cooking on a medium temperature.

Makkachin patted Yuuri's leg with a light paw, "what is it?" Yuuri questioned, wiping his hands on his baby blue apron. He knelt down so he was eye level with the dog.

The old dog’s tail wagged, "Oh, I forgot to make your food again?" Yuuri looked behind at the dog bowl. It was indeed empty; it must have slipped his mind that he needed to put out fresh food.

Yuuri stood up, straightening the wrinkles in his apron. The dog food was in the pantry, on the top shelf. Yuuri stopped to think, tapping his finger against his chin. He needed a stool to reach it safely.

"I'll be right back." He Makkachin before scurrying off.

When he left the kitchen, he felt a brush of chilling air. Chilled enough to make him shiver. Which was strange because it was possibly the hottest day of the year in Russia. He shrugged it off, coaxing it to maybe having the AC set too high.

Makkachin stayed behind in the cold spot, letting out a couple of happy barks. Then the old dog jumped as if jumping onto a person trying to get their attention. Makkachin continued to do that until Yuuri reentered with the bag of dog food.

He gave the dog a curious look, "what are you doing you, silly dog?" He chuckled.

Yuuri set the bag down on floor near the bowl; he needed something to shovel out the right portion. Luckily the baking utensils weren't far. He reached for a measuring cup, making sure to pick the right one. Makkachin patiently watched.

"There you-"

Crash. The sudden noise startled them. Yuuri whipped his head around to investigate the source. It was one of the coffee mugs, now broken on the floor. The coffee spreading out all over the clean white floors. How did it fall? He must have accidentally pushed it to the edge of the table while passing by.

It was going to be a pain to clean up, but at least it spilled on a tiled floor. Yuuri sighed. He might as well turn the eggs and bacon off, he didn't want them to burn while he cleaned up the mess.

...

 

_These were the days when Yuuri liked to take long walks on the beach, taking in the organic smell of the sea._

He clenched onto the lightweight hoodie around his body. It was a hot day but he felt freezing cold. Yuuri knew that he looked out-of-place walking pass joggers in their shorts and tank tops with sweat stains on their backs, taking note of the strange looks they gave. He just couldn't explain why it felt as if he was flat in the middle of winter.

Makkachin was up ahead of him, running down to the sand. Yuuri called after the dog, Makkachin loved the beach. Yuuri did too. They always made it a routine to go for a walk on the beach every Sunday.

Yuuri couldn't help but smile, even if it was a small one. He stepped onto the sand with his bare feet, wiggling his toes. Makkachin was now on the shoreline, happily barking. It looked as if the dog was playing with someone. No one was there.

Yuuri made his way over, the cool water splashing on his legs. "Are you having fun?" He asked the dog.

There was no point of going to the beach unless he got his feet wet. Yuuri walked further out in the water, kicking against the small waves. Sometimes he forgot how blue the water was. It was a dark blue, rich in color with a splash of white on the tips of the waves.

An icy touch was felt on his shoulders, he turned. No one was there, nor was there anything cold enough to create that feeling. He shrugged, standing in the middle of the water. They should head back to the house; it was nearly time for lunch.

"Come, Makkachin. Let's go cool off in the house."

...

 

On Sunday's, Yuuri loved to stay home and play with a crossword puzzle. It was a guilty pleasure he loved to indulge in, his friends often reminding him of his old soul. They weren't wrong. Yuuri would describe himself as an old person at heart. Why? Because he enjoyed the small things in life.

He was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in his favorite blanket, topped in his favorite joggers. A comfortable black pair with white stripes running along the side. He also wore his fuzzy pink socks.

Makkachin was on the floor taking a nap. Exhausted from all the activity by the beach. By now they followed a rhythmic routine. Yuuri would likely indulge in his crossword for a half hour before making dinner.

"Down with four letters?" Yuri was stumped. Only a few minutes into the puzzle and he stuck.

 _Ding-dong_. It was the sound of the doorbell.

"Coming!" He set the paper down in his seat with the pencil neatly on top. He wasn't expecting any visitors today. No matter.

"It's about time. I'm fucking sweating out here." It was none other than Yuri. His now back length blond hair sticking onto the sweat on his body and forehead. He was fanning himself with his hand.

"What the hell are you wearing? You're making me hot just by looking at you. Let me in, would you." Yuri had grown taller over the years, now taller than Yuri. Though Yuuri could still take him down in size if he needed to.

Yuuri stepped to the side so that his guest could come in. Closing the door behind him. He reminded Yuri to take off his shoes, and then told him that he had perfect timing because he was about to start dinner.

"Yeah. Yeah. I know the drill." Yuri went to the direction of the kitchen.

Yuuri didn't plan on cooking for another hour, but since he had the extra set of helping hands he might as well start. He went to get his crossword so he could safely put it up for later.

But something made his body tense up.

_Love._

The spot he had trouble filling was now filled with Russian characters. He knew enough Russian to read what it says.

"Hey, Yuri!" He wasn't going crazy, was he? Maybe Yuri did it before he went to the kitchen. Yeah, that's it. There's always a logical explanation.

"What is it, pig?" The younger man looked between Yuuri and the paper he was holding. He was in the middle of washing his hands so it better be important. He stepped up to Yuuri, now since he was closer he could see the paper tremor.

"What's your problem?"

"D-Did you fill this out?" He handed the paper to him so that he could see what he was going on about.

Yuri's eyes scanned over the writing. Nothing was there, only blank white boxes. He looked up at Yuuri; he gave him a look, one that awaited his answer. Has he officially lost it? Yuri didn't want to stress him out more than he already is.

"Yeah, I did. Let's start cooking already. I'm fucking starving."

He turned to leave. However, Yuuri remained. He knew that Yuri didn't write it, it wasn't his handwriting. Never mind, maybe he's reading too much into it.

His hunger was probably affecting his imagination.

...

 

_There were days when life decided to stay still. The day becoming as tedious as a stubborn weed that doesn't want to be plucked._

It was raining outside. It wasn't the type of pass and go rain; it was the hard rain that rattled the entire house, with his hard thunder shaking through your body.

Yuuri never liked the rain. Often time when he was younger he would cuddle up with his older sister, Mari. She would tell him stories to get his mind off it, and they would pretend the thunder was a dragon trying to get them and they were the slayers. That tactic always worked when he was younger, never when he was older.

_Boom._

Yuuri jumped, clenching onto the covers. Makkachin stayed by his side, curled up against his legs. That dog wasn't afraid of anything, Yuuri was grateful.

_Boom._

"It's okay. P-Pretend the thunder is the dragon and I'm the slayer..." he told himself, covering his ears with his hands. Here he was, a grown man, scared of a little storm.

_Boom._

It wasn't working. Yuuri hid under the blanket, tears threatening to escape his eyes. It was always easier when he had someone else with him. He curled into himself _. It's okay; it's going to be okay._ Yuuri told himself.

A chill went through his body. It was cold and then warm, as if a pair of arms was wrapped around his body. Yuuri sighed, sinking into the strange feeling of comfort. He lowered his hands, but kept his eyes closed. His ears beginning to throb, and his nose being invaded by the scent of fresh pinecones and cinnamon.

He heard Makkachin bark. Yuuri scrambled to remove the covers; he flailed his arms around until they were off.

"What is it?" He worriedly inquired. His eyes squinted, using his hand as shade he looked towards the window. The sun was already up; with rain droplets sliding down the glass, slowly evaporating in the heat. The sky was a mixture of yellow, orange, and pink. It was beautiful. The storm must have passed, but how long has he been under the covers?

The scent lingered a little while longer before disappearing completely. Yuuri felt the empty side of the bed. Cold. He stared at his hand, rubbing his fingers together. He couldn't explain what this feeling was, it wasn't a bad feeling. Rather, one he couldn't explain.

It was probably all in his imagination. He went on his knees to crawl towards Makkachin, petting the dog behind the ears.

"We survived our first storm on our own. Let's get something to eat."

...

"Yuuri, you should rest."

"Don't waste your breath, hag. He's not going to stop." Yuri told the redhead. He was on the floor, doing his stretches, his legs in a perfect split.

"But it's not healthy..." Mila was worried. She could see how much Yuuri was pushing himself, he moving slow, and out of breath despite his high stamina. Yuuri's been on the ice all morning without once taking a break. Everyone was starting to get concerned.

"No shit. That doesn't mean he's going to listen." Yuri got up on his feet, moving his hair from his eyes. Yuuri could be the most rational person, and the most stubborn. This was of those times when his stubbornness took over.

"Hey, pig! Get your ass off the ice, you're freaking us all out!" Screamed Yuri.

Yuuri was in the center of the rink, doubled over with his hands on his knees. His lungs felt like they were burning. His face got and flushed. No, he had to push through. He had to.

"Get your ass off the ice!"

He went to look in the direction of Yuri's yelling. Mila was staring at him, along with Yakov. Everyone was looking. His breathing was rigid. He just didn't have the energy anymore to even stand up, so he collapsed on his knees.

Why was he so weak? This is not what He wanted. He would have told him to keep pushing through, that it would be worth it at the end when he had the gold medal around his neck. He would have told him what he needed to hear.

His eyes were stinging. Tears falling on the ice below him. He needed Him. He could do this without Him.

"Yuuri."

Yuuri looked up, he saw a shimmer of silver hair above him, with those ocean blue eyes. Yuuri's own eyes widen to an astonishing size. Was he seeing things? His glasses were off and all he could make out was an all too familiar silhouette of...

"Go home." The figure bent down. The silver he thought he saw melting away, turning to gold. The ocean blue eyes turning into a forest green.

"Hey, can you hear me? Go home. You're starting to worry everyone."

"Y-Yuri?"

Yuuri stuttered over his words, it wasn't Him. It was just a figment of his imagination. He wiped away the tears, getting up on his skates with ease.

"Yuri, I..."

"Don't say anything. I'm not here to baby you. Just go home, get some rest or whatever. We just don't want you killing yourself in the rink cause then we won't be able to practice."

That made Yuuri chuckle. The younger man always had a funny way of showing how he really feels, but he appreciates his effort. Yuuri nodded, wiping his face off some more. Yeah, that's it. He just needed rest. He hasn't been able to sleep well over the past week.

"Thank you." He said. A smile even graced his lips.

"Shut up already. We want to practice."

...

 

Then there were days when life decided it was best to reset. Like a new seed getting planted in the soil so it could grow.

"Today's the day." Yuuri was talking to Makkachin. The dog ran to the door, waiting for Yuuri to join him.

Yuuri wasn't ready yet. He had to make sure he had everything. Pictures, candles, and flowers. A large bouquet that he picked up prior, it consisted of lilies, daffodils, and blue roses. He packed everything in his bag except for the flowers.

"Are you ready?" Yuuri turned the handle on the door. He opened it. Immediately he was hit with the warm summer air. It was beautiful and bright out. A rather nice Thursday evening.

"Okay, let's go."

And they went. Embarking on their journey. It wasn't far, they could've driven there but Yuuri thought it would be better to walk. Makkachin didn't seem to mind either. Yuuri held the flowers against his chest, cradling them slightly. He's going to love these flowers, they were his favorite.

They turned into the gate. It was a tall black ironed gate very much Victorian inspired. Makkachin went ahead, rushing through the field with such speed and excitement. Yuuri walked a bit slower.

They were the only ones here, just how Yuuri liked it. Now it would just be the three of them. Like how it always was.

Yuuri stopped walking, "Hello, Vitya." He sat on the grass, Makkachin already by his side, sitting.

"I got you a few things. The flowers you love, a picture of us, and some candles. The apple scented ones, the ones that reminds you of autumn." Yuuri took his bag off his back, reaching to get the gifts he brought with them.

"We've had a busy week. One morning I made your favorite breakfast. Eggs and with bacon that's extra crispy, I even made coffee for us. Remember when you dropped your favorite mug when Makkachin rushed pass you? The coffee spilled everywhere and I made you clean it."

Yuuri stroked the grass underneath him, getting lost in his memories.

"We even went to the beach. We walked along the boardwalk, Makkachin ran ahead to the beach of course. Remember when you and Makkachin were so excited and you both ran into the water? How you two played and I watched. Then you convinced me to come down, I was reluctant but you always had a way with words. I walked out further than I ever had, and then you placed your hands on my shoulders. Giving me that smile you always gave. That was a good day."

Makkachin laid on the grass, falling asleep to the sound of Yuuri's voice.

"Then we went back to the house. It was Sunday; I played with my crossword puzzle. I was stuck on another four-letter word. All I could think about was the time you took the paper from me and wrote the word love. I told you it didn't fit with the topic, but you just told me that love is always the answer. You were always so cheesy. But I loved that about you."

He sighed, looking at the picture that he took out. He was struck with a sudden feeling of sadness.

"There was a storm. I was terrified. I told you about how Mari and I would pretend the thunder was a dragon and we were the slayers. I tried thinking about that, but all I could think of was when you pulled me under the covers. You held me in your arms and we stayed there until the storm was over. I remember us working on Christmas decorations proof, and how you still smelled faintly of pine cones and cinnamon."

A breeze came in, rustling the surrounding trees. Yuuri continued telling his story.

"I went skating. This is going to be my last year, did I tell you? I wanted to practice and push myself. I thought of you the whole time. And, I guess I pushed myself a little too hard because I collapsed. It was like when we first practiced together. I wanted to impress you so bad that I went pass my limit. Then, you skated over to me, I think you said my name, I was too embarrassed. You helped me up, your eyes sparkling. This may sound silly but I think that was the moment when I realized I was in love with you..."

His breathing hitched, Yuuri threw his hands over his mouth. The dam that held back his emotions finally breaking. Harsh sobs wrecked his body. It was always like this, and no matter how much time has passed it had never healed his wounds. Only making them a mere afterthought.

"V-Viktor, I miss you. I miss you so much. If only I were with you that day. We could have been together." Yuuri touched the smooth gravestone, a sniffling mess. He didn't care. If was only him and Viktor, on this Thursday evening. A Thursday that felt exactly like the Thursday when the accident happened.

"I know you're always with me, I feel your presence. I see your words and your face. There isn't a day when I don't think about you."

Yuuri picked up one of the candles to light, though his shaking hand made it hard to do so. He breathed, immediately his hand steadied, and he was able to light it. Placing it in front of the gravestone. Then, he took the flowers he purchased and neatly placed it on top.

"I wonder about the what ifs, the things I should have told you, the things I should have done. I think of things I haven't thought of. I-"

 _Swish._ Above him flew a white dove. It had its wings spread out, and Yuri could see small speckles of silver. His eyes watered again. Viktor was here, he was listening.

 

It wasn't until sunset when Yuuri decided it was time for them to leave. He woke Makkachin up, collected his photo, and pushed himself up. Brushing the dirt off his pants.

They will be back next Thursday. They always were. Yuuri took one last look at the stone. He gave a sad smile before walking away. Walking away was always the hardest. He wishes he could stay there forever. But Viktor would have wanted him to walk away and live his life.

"Until we met again."

...

 

_In loving memory of Viktor Nikiforov_

  _12.25.89- 11.29.17_

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Like I said before I wanted to focus this around the topic of the aftermath of someone passing. I hope I was able to do this justice. This was a quick idea I had and I wrote it over night. Anyways, Kudos and Comments are always appreciated! Thank you again!


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